Depression tears chunks off me with every breath. If I could just have a day without it, that would be a blessing indeed. But I don't believe in blessings. I'm in charge of my life and I have a brain that works the way it does and maybe I'll never be able to feel anything different. How I dread the opening of my eyes to a new day. How I long for the release of sleep, I stalk the clock for the time when I can escape to my bed. It hurts. I hurt. And I cannot escape it, just feel. I've made myself willing to feel but it seems it's a bottomless pit , a relentlessly free refill of despair. I thought I had struck a bargain , that I could let myself go through all the feelings dwelling inside, there's so many, is it that I banned them from me for too long that they fight back with such vigorous vengeance. I choke with them, they strike, I flail in helplessness. Thoughts shriek in and out of sensing, me reeling as if from a blow. But they are blows and I feel them yet no one is there, no one strikes me. My psyche strikes me. The beauty of my surroundings eludes appreciation. This invisible war ravages on.
Looking inward, trying to see and improve actual rather than imagined flaws. Obsessing overs mistakes. Mistakes of even tiny magnitudes overpower any positive I've achieved. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm on an autism/Aspergers spectrum since I seem to be lacking some basic social skills.missing important cues, I'll ask my psychiatrist about these. Or could it"just" be a manifestation of how beat down I feel and have felt much of my life. People tell me to just be happy. Argh. I guess they mean well yet I feel dismissed, underestimated so the beaten down feeling is reinforced. Vicious cycle.
Had a headache this morning,took some Advil, which eventually worked and further removed my emotional pain. Epiphany. Emotional pain is pain. Can understand why and how one can become addicted to such things.
So more of the same. Lying in bed, another day. Wishing just to give my life to someone who wants it. Let me have their cancer, diabetes , their terminal illness, then they can live and there won't be 2 lives wasted. Kind people trying to cheer me up, waste of time as it falls off me. Feeling ashamed and guilty knowing there's people I care about suffering but they do not want to talk to me. They say I cause them to much stress, I'm too self absorbed. They don't like that. They want me to be their automaton, do what they say, stay quiet, they say I insert myself. Doesn't everyone want to feel included? To feel they matter? They just seem to want me to stay invisible and silent, like when I was little. These are toxic relationships with people who have no idea, or Interest in seeing how toxic they are. Yet, I need to focus on what I can do to help myself, all of do. If we don't care for ourselves first we have nothing left to give others. I don't have much left. I wake up spent. That's not good.